


Genesis

by CabiriaMinerva



Series: The Lucifer enigma [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Chlucifer - Freeform, Deckerstar - Freeform, F/M, Lucifer (comics) - Freeform, Mistery, Sexual Tension, Smut, What-If, probably some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-05-25 21:42:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6211222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CabiriaMinerva/pseuds/CabiriaMinerva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Human beings are not programmed to resist angels - yet Chloe Decker doesn't seem to fall for Lucifer's charm. But the Prince of Darkness won't rest until he understands why she is resiting him, even if that leads them to some unexpected discoveries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! The story takes place after alternate development of 1x04 I wrote some weeks ago. As I am writing one chapter per time, I can only assume there will be some violence and (maybe) sexy-time (I really hope there will be). There'll probably be some references to the comics (or some ideas, prompt, whatever).  
> Since I'm not English native speaker, please feel free to point out the mistakes!

**I.**

 

«Uh, dangerous... Lucifer likes!»

And off he had gone, following the model in the backstage, while an annoyed Maze was left to attend that uninteresting human basking in his fame. Lucifer was just starting to enjoy the taste of the ambitiousless girl – her most true desire was... a cheeseburger. Really? – when the shooting had begun. Well, yes, of course someone _had_ to ruin is little snack. And of course Maze would hear no reason: his _broken heart_ would surely heal some other time, for she was not eager to know if that woman's performance on his knee could be repeated.

On the bright side, the inconvenience had actually turned out to be of help, fostering his little investigation on Detective Decker. As a matter of fact, he knew she wouldn't have called him – not for a case, not for anything else. She _wanted to_ – that he was sure of, especially after that damn shameful moment they shared when she had seen the scars on his back – but she wouldn't do it. And _that_ was part of the great challenge that woman represented: humans were not made, programmed to resist angels. Not even fallen ones. And yet, there she was, pushing whatever she may or may not feel deep down, where she could almost forget it. Yes, but _now,_ thanks to that girl's death, she was sitting next to him in a pub. He grinned winningly: after his little talk to Lt. Monroe she hadn't really had any choice in the matter, but to _accept_ his presence in the case.

«Two shots of your finest swill, please, love.» His liveliness only seemed to worsen the mood of the little crowd of police officers that was watching them – how dared that bitch show her face there? And with such a companion, whose cheerfulness was a mockery to them.

«Uh... I'll have a water.» He looked at her as if she had just said a blasphemy. And not a minor one.

Then... well, he'd admit later that maybe – just _maybe –_ he could have restrained a bit more his force. But that ass had been rude and, even worse, his words had clearly scratched an open wound – for something she was probably right in any case. Lucifer just _couldn't_ have ignored it. And he was sure she had enjoyed it, although she'd never have shown it.

 

* * *

 

«One might say I did you a favour!» He was really starting to enjoy this... saving thing. There was some odd satisfaction not only in watching the culprits get arrested, but also in seeing the victims redeemed. Oh, he was so pleased with himself..

«Yeah, I think I just figured it out why you do these favours.»

«Oh, really?»

«Mhmh. It's about power – makes you feel superior, in control. You're addicted to creating chaos and seeing where the chips fall. The hell with the consequences. It's like you have some kind of God complex.»

His smile faded. How dared that creature say something like that to _him?_ «I most certainly do not.» There had been times, in Hell, when he'd tear off the tongues of those who dared even think his father's name.

«You do a favour for one person, someone else suffer.»

That was only a lie. One of the lies arrogant humans would tell, century after century, in order to avoid their responsibility. As if _he_ were the one responsible for their actions, as if _he_ would give them what they wished just to instil the spark of pain and evil. He was super partes: he _gave_ without ulterior motives. He had always _given_ – it was his nature, and his father had known that when he had created him.

Anyway, it was not a good time to wallow in the offence. The detective had finished talking and was now heading toward the car with the look she always had while trying to ignore her guts – and he was absolutely interested in discovering what they were saying.

And, of course, they were right. It was marvellous how such a simple creature could _feel_ others’ innocence and guilt, and be driven by that feeling.

 

* * *

 

That same night, some bodies tangled on him, Lucifer found himself staring at the ceiling. The sex hadn’t been satisfying as usual. Yes, one of the boys had a really talented mouth. And yes, he had liked watching the two girls getting warm for him – all tongues and fingers and moans – while _that_ mouth was working wonders on his penis. But he had felt a disturbance, so to say, a frustration he had carried since the umpteenth time detective Decker had rejected him.

How. How could she resist him? He’d never had to ask for… well, anything really. Not among humans. They were all more than happy to comply all of his requests. Especially when it came to sex: it didn’t even really matter whether they were straight, gay or else. A smile (more of a grin, really) or a gaze a little bit longer than usual and they would strip in a club full of inebriated people, in the bathroom of a well-known law firm (though that had only happened once: he usually preferred the offices, possibly on the desk), on the couch of a therapist’s studio…

And yet… yet she was – resisting him. So no, he had not fully enjoyed the night and its warmth. Because sometimes – between a kiss and a caress, or when he buried his face between thighs and let his tongue bathe in the fluids – the thought of her forcibly took over (and yes, he knew she probably wouldn’t appreciate it… but still) and that somehow deflated his arousal.

Lucifer sighed: he _needed_ to solve the puzzle that was Detective Decker, to know what she was hiding behind that angelic (oh, the irony) face in order to resist his charm. He crawled out of the bed, leaving the sleeping bodies to get a drink. Maybe two. _Definitely more_.

 

* * *

 

Maybe – just maybe – she had been a bit cruel. But the look on his face when she had closed the car door had been absolutely worth it. She had laughed all the way to her home. She didn’t really understand his obsession with boning her – for fuck’s sake, the man could have anyone (literally, anyone seemed ready to drop their pants at his will), so why cling on to the one who didn’t have any intention of sleeping with him? Yes, yes, the challenge thing and all – but _that_ really bothered her, especially because he had proved himself of use and his continuous allusions were irritating and… and… and well, she’d have lied if she had said she didn’t find them vaguely alluring. And that, especially, she didn’t like.

Not because she didn’t like sex, of course. She loved sex... Well, she _had_ _loved_ sex. It had been a long time since other hands had touched her. Well, it almost three years since she and Dan had decided to go separate ways (it was probably over before Palmetto, but that case surely hadn’t helped them). Then there had been a date with… someone, what was his name? But they didn’t even kiss – he was tremendously boring. And she had had a one-night stand around the same period…

_Oh god, that was two years ago. OH GOD, I’ve become one of those separated women who practically become nuns because of the work, the children, the I-really-don’t-know-how-I-spent-all-that-time._

She sank into her pillow. She hadn’t even noticed how quickly the time had passed.

It was not as if she never went out with her friends: she did, not so often any more, but she did. And she knew she was still young and could be pretty seductive. But she only realized now that she had discarded the men who tried to flirt with her in pubs or clubs – she couldn’t recall a particular man or another, but she remembered that they were also cute, some very handsome. But she just didn’t find them intriguing.

Lucifer, on the other hand… oh, _he_ was intriguing, sure. And mysterious – there was something about him that triggered her curiosity, her thirst for truth. But he didn’t care about anybody – not that she thought sleeping around was a bad thing (right now she wished she could go out and do the same), but he truly didn’t care. At all. People were just… toys. And she was no toy.

_Well, that is not exactly true, is it? He does care, sometimes. He cared about the singer whose murdered you were investigating when you two first met. And you… he always tries, in his own way, to protect you._

Oh, please. Stop it. She grimaced and pulled her duvet under her chin. He still was… insufferable. It was blatant that he was used to get everything he wanted: he was rich, presumptuous, spoiled. And if she was the one responsible for the unique event of someone not giving him what he wanted… well, damn! There were enough people ready to kiss his ass whenever he liked it.

_One must admit, it is an ass worth of notice…_

«Oh, for fuck’s…»

Ok, he was all of the above _and_ also handsome. If he were anyone else, maybe – but just maybe – she’d think of… _that_.

 _You already do_. _Remember the night on his apartment? When he so generously showed you what you could have if you’d only give in?_

Yes, she remembered. But she didn’t want to give in. He was handsome, and she still had flashes of his naked body... the scars, making him so vulnerable (and hiding goodness knows what terrible secret…), the slim figure, the strong arms, the…

She felt her face reddening. No. He _was_ handsome, but she knew what would happen if she’d slept with him – the next day she’d wake up and he’d be gone. Maybe he’d say goodbye, first. Then she’d be just another person he had slept with.

«That could actually be a good thing – I wouldn’t have to drag him around while working cases.» She muttered in a bitter-sweet tone.

_So maybe the problem is not that he always gets what he wants and is arrogant and whatever… maybe the problem is…_

«Oh, shut up already!»

The door slowly opened. «Mommy, who are you talking with? » Trixie, half-asleep, showed up.

«No one, monkey. What are you doing up this late?» Chloe sat up.

«I had a nightmare.» The child rubbed her eyes.

«Come here…» She patted the bed and then hugged the little body who crawled on it. «D’you want to sleep with me, just for tonight?» The little head moved in a nod, and she could tell Trixie was already falling asleep once again. She smiled and kissed her. «Ok, little monster…»


	2. II.

**II.**

 

He had stared into the night for a long while, Mazikeen at his side, silent.

 _Someone's got them, Mazikeen_.

He didn't want them, didn't want the memories they carried. But still, the mere idea of someone else staring at them, touching them... He shivered.

_Someone's got my wings._

«It's late, you better go.» The heaviness on his chest almost had him screaming. He wanted to sleep the day off. To forget the frustration and the pain – gosh, he hated that _feeling_. Pain. Anger he could manage. But pain... A grimace took over his tired face.

«Don't you want me to...» Her hands reached for his side, giving no doubts on what she was implying.

«Go. Now.» If there was one thing the daughter of Lilith knew, was that Lucifer didn't like to repeat himself. Nonetheless, she gave him a disappointed look while walking away. But the man almost didn't notice it, his mind focused on the unfolding of events.

With an angry grunt he smacked a fist on the wall and then dragged him to his bed, muttering the things he'd do to whoever took his wings.

 

* * *

 

Detective Decker was lying still on her bed. Something was off with Lucifer. Yes, of course he wasn't the simplest of men, but he had acted weirdly: and she was not thinking about how quick he'd decided a murder was not worth his time. It was more the following odd behaviour: sure, it was normal to be upset when robbed, but... He couldn't possibly had been _that_ upset for... dolls? Still, the container was otherwise empty.

The woman rolled over, curling up under the duvet with a sigh.

And then… then there was the way he almost ignored her. Mind, not that she didn’t appreciate the liberation – even if probably just temporary – from sexual innuendos and the continuous attempts to bone her. But… well, it was strange. Not _lucifery_. And it’s not as if she _liked_ to be at the centre of his attentions and whatever else, but she felt a bit… how to say… left out? Yeah, that was it. Left out. It was as if Lucifer didn’t want to include her in whatever was bothering him.

_I mean… he’s always so happy to over share everything that comes through is mind and… yeah, also through other parts…_

She shifted, half embarrassed by her unfinished thought (which was stupid, actually. She was alone, in her bed. She could think of anything she wanted to. Right? Right.). Surely she’d be able to find out more about whatever was upsetting him, she reassured herself. Yes, definitely. She smiled.

 

 

* * *

 

He hadn’t slept all night. He hadn’t slept and, although his nature, the fatigue was showing in dark circles beneath his eyes, in the heaviness of his body. The last time he felt tired mankind was at his dawning and he had participated in a long, excruciating war against his father and siblings.

 _Maybe Amenadiel and Maze are right. Maybe you_ are _being influenced by humanity._

Lucifer angrily shook the thought and with a growl reached for the half empty glass on the night stand. With his head resting on the headboard, he savoured the pungent taste of scotch.

«Mmmh…» Eyes closed, he let his tongue search for a runaway drop on his lips. Then, he lazily lifted his eyelids. «Maze.» The woman didn’t do any noise, of course, but he didn’t really need to see or hear her – he’d always _feel_ her presence. Lucifer didn’t hide his placid surprise: after his rejection (well, he wouldn’t actually have called it _rejection_ , but he knew Mazikeen. She didn’t mind him having sex with every creature in the creation, as long as she had her fair share.) he thought she’d disappear for a few days to unload her fury. Possibly on some heinous beings deserving a good punishment.

And yet, there she was. Silent. Her face calm, considering. However, Lucifer noticed she hadn’t changed and was still in the leather black one-piece she was wearing the night before.

«Long night?» he asked, one eyebrow raising questioning.

In response, she filled up his glass with the amber liquid and then proceeded to empty it. He grinned. _Oh, Mazey…_

«I’m glad you didn’t disappear as usual.»

Maze frowned. She was always happy to be at his master’s side, but she wasn’t sure on how to handle these moments of gentleness. Maybe he just wanted to fix the let-down of the previous day?

«I know what you are thinking, but I am tired right now…» The frown increased. He was… tired? «… and I’m not in the mood…» Lucifer swore that if Mazikeen had frowned more intensely her eyebrows would have fused together. «… and I’m actually in need of your services. Your official services, I mean, of course.» And the sneer he gave her was devilish enough to arouse her curiosity and relax her.

«You do?»

«I need you to find someone for me.»

Maze cocked her head, intrigued. «Who?»

«I’m warning you, this might be a bit more arduous than the usual hunt. And, most importantly, this is _not_ like your usual hunt.»

«Who are we looking for?» She took a few step towards him

«You absolutely don’t have to engage with him. Don’t even let him know you found him. Just… locate him and tell me right away.»

« _Who?_ » That sounded fun, and her eyes shined with ferocious joy.

He half-whispered a name. A long-forgotten name.

Maze’s lips twitched almost imperceptibly, surprised. «Are you sure?» Her dark eyes thin with suspicious, but not really expecting further explanation. They silently exchanged a long gaze, the ones they used to exchange when they didn’t even need words do understand each other, then she nodded and left, noiselessly as always.

 

 

* * *

 

Lucifer inhaled deeply, then slowly released the smoke. Since the Detective had told him that someone was _auctioning_ his wings, he’d felt unsettled and uneasy. He’d decided to put aside whatever mystery she was hiding, whatever question, explanation, theory he’d come to produce in his constant attempt to decipher her. Not for long, he’d said to himself mindlessly. It was just that, even if he didn’t think he could care… He did. He cared. His wings, his magnificent wings, one of the firsts his father had forged… in some mortal being’s hands. For a crushing, excruciating moment he’d almost lost himself to the pain. _His wings._

They had represented his grandeur, the love his father had put into them… and his shiny nature, as they were of the whitest white, harvested from the brightest star itself – a red, enormous star with a core so pure and immaculate that Yahweh had put it in the furthest point of the universe from Earth, fearing a simple glimpse of it would annihilate mankind. They were a reminder of what he’d lost, so many millennia ago.

And they were Samael’s.

He’d realized it seconds after seeing them mounted, _like some decorative stag head_. They were just as he remembered them, and _that was it._ The sight of them brought back all the feelings he’d tried so hard to push into oblivion: anger, humiliation, rejection… The mere sight of them had twisted his bowels.

Knowing the name of the one behind their disappearance, the one responsible for all those unwanted emotions, had only sealed his moment of epiphany.

They had been Samael’s. And he was not him – hadn’t been him for a very long time.

A crooked smile crept on his face when the molecules in the air started buzzing, announcing the arrival of Amenadiel, and his long fingers briefly dug in the damp sand he was sitting on, gathering the courage of doing what needed to be done.

 

 

* * *

 

_But nothing. I am with you, Lucifer. From now until the end. We’re a team, right?_

He knew Maze didn’t completely understand _why_ he’d done it. She was a wonderful warrior and an imaginative lover, and she was the most loyal creature in the universe, ready to betray her own kind to join him, over and over again. But she was a Lilim, not an angel. Not even a human being. Yes, a remote relative of the second kind, but she would never understand some _things_.

Like his _need_ to prove to his father that _he,_ Lucifer Morningstar, was not tired of sacrificing himself in order to maintain his free will. Even if that meant destroying a part of his power – and a part of himself.

He also knew that she didn’t fully understand or approve the task he’d given her. He could feel the _whys_ hovering around her. But that, of course, didn’t mean she’d refrain from her duty.

So, it was without further thoughts that he dismissed her, ready to drink his sorrow away. Alone. Because no matter how loyal she was, no matter how much she still loved him... he couldn’t put himself to feel as close to her as he once felt.

Now, he felt utterly alone. Not sad, regretful, angry… Just… Alone. In a neutral kind of way.

He emptied another shot of bronze, aromatic tequila, one hand still lightly playing the piano.

Soft steps and a familiar voice interrupted the tune. He involuntarily smiled, a now-familiar warmth growing somewhere behind his sternum.

Yeah, well… maybe not _that_ alone, then.


	3. III.

**III.**

 

Lucifer hadn’t travelled like _that_ in a long time. Actually, he hadn’t travelled at all in a long time. Since he’d decided to settle in Los Angeles he’d never gone anywhere. Which was strange, to be honest: when he still held the rein of Hell, he used to improvise brief _relaxing trips_ – as he loved to call them – more or less anywhere. He just took off, leaving Maze in control of his reign for few days, sometimes weeks. Once or twice, even months. Then he went to admire the White Night Festival, to entertain himself at the Dia de los muertos, to embrace the spirit of the Rio de Janeiro Carnival… Sometimes he simply strolled through the Creation: he loved the calmness of some almost-forgotten spots at the corner of a distant galaxy, where even the Prince of Darkness would feel some kind of awe at the magnificent sight. He could stare for days into nebulas, the pungent smell of gas burning and squeezing and fusing with dust for millennia… until a new star was born.

Yes, he’d very liked his careless journeys, taking his mind away from his heinous fate, from his reign of damnation and valleys of pain and towns of regrets.

But that had changed when he’d decided to move to the US and actually settle there: why travel, now, when he had all he could want? He had heated nights with women and men – and sometimes also heated afternoons… and mornings… he liked to keep himself busy – and rivers of alcohol. And entertainment, too: especially since he’d met that little, resistant, mysterious thing that was Detective Decker.

And then she’d become the reason to travel once again. Whatever the secret that was making her immune to him… he was going to unveil it.

So, when Chloe had called with a new case, he’d told her he’d be away for a few days («I have some business that need my undivided and _physical_ attention, so I’ll be unavailable for some days, Detective.» he’d said to her, scoffing when she’d sarcastically asked him if those _business_ that needed his _undivided and physical attention_ were brunettes or blondes. «Are we jealous, Detective?» She had banished him from her office, but hadn’t been able to hid her grin, saying she’d be delighted to finally spend some time without him snooping around.).

 _Well, I am away, after all_ … he thought, watching as millions of far, little street lamps slowly illuminated Paris.

He was sitting outside a small café, sipping from a glass of Pastis. Well, maybe not his favourite drink, to be honest, but they’d only sell him watered down Absinthe – Lucifer suspected that the real thing was kept away from tourists more because French people thought it’d be wasted than because they feared they could feel sick – thus this had to do.

«Oh, finally.» he said with a dramatic tone, rolling his eyes. «I have been waiting for almost half an hour. Next time, we’re meeting at the Pigalle. At least I’d know how to kill time while you’re out doing… whatever you were doing.»

Mazikeen looked at him without battling an eyelid.

«Well, sit.» Lucifer gesticulated towards the small, white chair on the other side of the wobbly table. He then ordered a drink for her, without really bothering to ask her first. They’d been together for so long, he perfectly knew what she liked.

When the waiter arrived with a glass filled with the amber liquid, Mazikeen smirked and slowly tasted her drink. «Mmmh, Rémy Martin XO.» she said, pleased.

«Yes, yes. And I’m sure it’s delicious as always.» Lucifer wasn’t exactly the patient type. «But I didn’t fly to the other hemisphere to discuss cognac, now, did I?»

«You’re such a killjoy.» Nonetheless, she pulled out an envelope from the inside of her leather jacket. «I’m still not sure I understand the reason why I couldn’t approach him. I could have simply brought him to you, making sure he…»

«Your work isn’t to _understand_ , Maze.» Lucifer cocked his head, sneering. «However...» he added, pausing only to swallow another sip of Pastis. «Since I’m feeling generous, today, I’ll tell you that I prohibited you to approach him because I didn’t want him to flee.» Maze raised an eyebrow. «Yes, I know you’d find him again. But _I_ want to talk with him _now_. I have better affairs to tend to than chasing some old, boring _friend_.» He absent-mindedly watched the waiter as he passed near them, a champagne bottle in one hand, and went toward a young, giggling couple. _So unoriginal._ «Well, where is _he_?»

  


* * *

  


«Mummy, are you working with Lucifer today?»

Chloe closed her eyes and deeply inhaled. Lucifer had been out of town for two days only, and this was the fifth time Trixie had asked her about him. The _fifth time_. What the hell did the man do to make her daughter utterly adore him? He literally treated her like a dog, throwing her toys and expecting her to catch them, using bacon as treats to distance her. Still, the little monster only had eyes for him (which was both worryingly and entertaining, especially since Dan was showing some serious fatherly jealousy).

«No, I’m not, monkey. I already told you, Lucifer is going to be away for a few days.»

«Yeah, but I thought that maybe he was already back…» Trixie answered, the hope in her words more than just a hint. «But maybe daddy was right and he just doesn’t like us any more.» she finished in a small voice.

The woman put down the lunch bag she was filling. Ok, that was strange. «What are you talking about? Did… did your father say something about Lucifer, honey?»

«Mmmh no…» The child looked away.

_Yes, of course he’s said something. And he’s upset her._

«Monkey, you know you can tell me anything, anything at all. What did your father say?»

«I wasn’t eavesdropping, I swear!» Her bright eyes searched for those of her mother. «But he was being very loud at the phone… And I was just there, you know?»

«It’s ok, monkey. Tell me, you won’t get in trouble.» _Maybe_ he _will._

«He was talking with someone about Lucifer, and he said that one day he’ll finally tire of us and will… just go away.» She sniffled. «And now he’s gone. So if he’s not coming back, maybe he’s already tired of us?»

 _I’m going to kill him with my bare hands._ How many times did she have to remind him to be careful with his words and comments and whatever came out of his mouth when their daughter – the little precocious monster with an hyperactive imagination – was around? Yes, it was no secret that he despised Lucifer. But that was _his_ problem, and shouldn’t be Trixie’s problem as well.

«Oh, honey, come here!» Chloe opened her arm and the child ran into them. «I’m sure your father didn’t mean to say that…» Of course he did. «Lucifer is only on a business trip, you don’t have to worry.» He wouldn’t simply… tire of them, would he? _Well… there is a good probability._ Obviously, she’d thought about it a few times. Especially when she was trying to convince the part of her that found him attractive that she simply _could not_ do something like that. «He’s going to be back before you know it, and then… maybe… we could go out and eat a pizza together?»

Yes, good tactic. Going on a _family date_ with Lucifer to soothe her child. She sighed. Well, it was only a pizza. What bad could it do? _Maybe giving hope to your child and to him? You know…_ Oh, for fuck’s sake… Chloe smiled to Trixie, trying to postpone her internal debates.

Trixie sniffled again. «Yeah, pizza sounds ok…» Chloe’s smile softened.

An hour later, when Trixie was finally at school and she had hung up on her ex-husband after a twenty-minutes tirade on why-you-should-fucking-think-before-talking-when-Trixie-is-around and on how he had to grow-up-and-stop-and-deal-with-your-stupid-jealousy-without-involving-our-daughter, Chloe found herself blankly staring at a report.

Not that she officially shared her daughter’s fears, but, well… Lucifer didn’t even own a cell phone, and she had no means to contact him. Going to the Lux would be useless. _And stupid. I’ll ask him about pizza night when he’s back and it’s not as if I had something else to tell him or miss him. He’s just a friend and he’s just on a business trip._

  


* * *

  


Lucifer had sent Mazikeen home, deaf to her protests – yes, of course she wouldn’t be able to _protect him_ from Los Angeles, but he wasn’t going to need said protection, a warrior, or whatever she could provide him with. He was not going to battle or war. He was only visiting an old acquaintance, one he could easily overpower had he needed to. And, furthermore, he _really_ needed her to manage his beloved club («Who, better than you, Mazey?» – she had obviously snorted in disbelief, not appreciating him cutting her out.)

As loyal as she was, he thought while wandering through stinky alleys, sometimes he wished she could be a little more flexible – and possibly less paranoid. It’s not as if everywhere he went someone was ready to try and kill him (which was, by the way, a really difficult task) or, worst, to drag him back to Hell.

Well.. it was _often_ that way, but _not always_. And it was broadly fun.

He stopped at the sight of an old, wooden sign, forgetting almost instantly his thoughts and Mazikeen. «Mmmh, that must be it. » He leaned on the wall, observing for a few minutes the coming and going of the people hurrying home after the long day, ignoring the shop with the lights still on. Yeah, well, it wasn’t really an appealing shop: the door was old and ruined, the windows sure could benefit from some water and soap, and the location wasn’t optimal. But that was probably the point, wasn’t it? An old and lousy book store in a secondary alley sure would go unnoticed.

Lucifer smiled to himself, wondering how long had _he_ been there, collecting books and storing them in a probably always empty shop, avoiding everything _angelic_.

«Off we go, then…» he mumbled, walking towards it.

When he entered the shop, he couldn’t say to be surprised: books were piled everywhere, covered by a thin layer of dust. Lucifer recognised some of them, but he had never really shared _his_ obsession with books. Yes, he knew them, read them, owned them (many of them, some even older than those in display in the shop), but was never _obsessed_ with them. He didn’t need books to recall the eras he’d lived through. Actually, books weren’t even _old enough_ to bear witness of what had been.

«Bah…» He ventured into the shop, feeling his presence. He smiled, pinpointing the exact moment when his presence was finally felt. Oh, this was going to be entertaining.

A small door on the back of the shop opened, revealing a middle-aged man with wide open eyes.

«Well then, here you are…» A Cheshire smile brightened Lucifer’s face.

«What are you doing here? How did you find me?» The trembling of his voice and the spark of fear betrayed a tone that was probably trying to be steady and aggressive.

«My, my, is this the way to welcome an old friend, Meleos?»

 

 


	4. IV.

**IV.**

 

Lucifer had always been somehow different from his siblings – always a bit too curious, too ready to question, too prone to test how far he could push, how many rules he could bend. This explained why, even long before the war, most of his siblings preferred to maintain some distance. And he’d never really blamed them, really: they were simpler, just following the orders of a father who’d had run away, leaving behind only a room with a vague spectre of his essence. Not much, just enough to lead them to believe he was somehow still a presence. So they’d lived, mostly merrily, following their elders’ orders, believing everything they said – enough to put a «It’s our father’s wish…» somewhere in between sentences.

Still, Lucifer – and Samael before him – had never been alone – most of his companions also followed him during the war, and fell with him as well. Those who survived, at least.

Notwithstanding the profound differences between them, Michael had always been there – yes, Michael, what humans would call his good twin. Well, he had been until the war. But that was absolutely foreseeable: he’d always been irritatingly obedient and unquestioning. He was the light to his darkness – the Lightbringer’s darkness. How ironic.

Then there were some of his brothers, some cherubs… All those who possessed a sparkle of doubt or darkness – not much, just enough to be charmed by Lucifer’s words and ways. They were loyal soldiers and sons of their father, _but_ some remote part of them sometimes wondered… were they really obliged into their role, were the rules really _absolutely_ just? Most of them were unaware of the little dark spot inside, placed in their mind, in their programming by Yahweh. Angels couldn’t even _conceive_ the idea of being tainted by wickedness.

Anyhow, among the companion with whom he’d spent his time while in heaven, and then in the Silver City specifically, Meleos had been one of the most shy. Not silent, like Duma. Just shy. He would spend most of his time admiring the creation, his siblings, whatever came before art was discovered by Yahweh’s mortal creatures. He also produced said _art_ , although it wasn’t named like that, at the time. He just created _beauty_. And Lucifer had always been a vigorous admirer of beauty.

The Lightbringer often visited Meleos in his rooms, observing his skills, chatting about recent rumours or gossip (seriously, human beings had a hyper-idealized idea of angels). He had also posed for some of his statues – afterwards, when the war was about to swamp the Silver City, and angels belonging to the opposite side began to question his ways, Lucifer had often thought that maybe Yahweh _had done it_ on purpose, putting all these flaws (which he personally considered virtues, but still…) in him.

And yes, Meleos was shy. But he was ambitious as well. So, so ambitious. Thus, one day a tiny, innocent idea crept into his mind. At first, he hadn’t thought much of it – creative as he was, ideas were the order of the day. Then he had absent-mindedly begun to elaborate the idea, neglecting his other works, slowly becoming obsessed with it.

One day, Lucifer had found him among a pile of sketches.

«Creating something new, now, are we?» he had joked.

Meleos had stared at him, eyes glistering with _furor poeticus_. «This… this is going to be my masterpiece.»

 

* * *

 

«How did you find me?» Meleos repeated, frightened.

_Really?_ Lucifer was almost annoyed by Meleos' attitude. Well, not almost. He was annoyed.

«Oh, come on, you know me… I am resourceful.» He grinned. «And you’re not _that_ hard to find. Maze had only to follow the trace of all these arcane books: a dusty scent, with hints of boredom and some after-taste of disappointment, I dare-say.»

Yes, he was disappointed. The shy, ambitious angel that had acknowledged the wickedness inside and had stood by his side while the war crushed the Silver City was now a sad, scared fallen creature. Well, he probably should have expected that of him: Meleos had never been strong enough to actually keep up with his ambitions. Such a pity – and a waste of talent, of course. Still, he possessed something that Lucifer wanted.

«Anyhow…» he rolled his eyes in seeing Meleos’s hands shake a bit. «As you may imagine, this is not a social call.» He mind-absently looked around. «I need _them_.»

Meleos’s eyes opened wide. «N-no. I can’t. They’re locked away, as they should be.»

«Don’t be overly dramatic. You can lock them away again after we’re finished and it will be as if nothing ever happened.» He considered patting Meleos on the head, just as he’d have done with a scared puppy, but he discarded the idea – as fun as it would have been, other fallen angel probably wouldn’t appreciate being mocked.

_Always so sensitive_.

«I’m sorry, Lucifer… It’s too dangerous. If I had the courage, I’d have destroyed them long ago…» Meleos lowered his gaze, probably ashamed of his own weakness.

«Why on earth would you destroy them? It would be such a waste!» Lucifer grimaced in disgust. «Really, Meleos, I’m astonished. With all the effort you put into creating them...» A theatrical snort followed his words, stressing his disbelief.

« _They_ are dangerous, uncontrollable. _They_ shouldn’t even have been created in the first place.»

 

* * *

 

Meleos had quickly become obsessed with his project, and Lucifer had shown some concerns about it («This obsession is going to destroy you, brother...»), but he would have lied if he'd denied to be impressed, amazed even. He’d spent months, years observing Meleos create – heck, he had even posed for him! And when Meleos had finally shown him the result of his efforts… Well, he had stared in reverent awe.

Meleos’ hands had given birth to a deck. A beautifully illustrated Tarot deck, a work of craftsmanship that no other being in the Creation could have even conceived.

«They are beautiful, aren’t they?» The craftsman had given Lucifer a wild-eyed gaze. «And…» His body trembled in anticipation. «I have interwoven parts of the book of Destiny with the paint…»

«You have… interwoven… parts of the book of Destiny in your deck?» Lucifer had tilted his head. « _Destiny of the Endless_?» When Meleos had shyly nodded, the grin on Lucifer’s face had broadened. «You know I have had many doubts about your project... However, I must admit you were right, Meleos. This may very well be your masterpiece.»

 

* * *

 

«I _need_ them. And rest assured that I don’t need your permission to consult them. Mine is just a courtesy, Meleos, in remembrance of our shared history and of your loyalty.» Lucifer covered the space between them in a few steps. «Were you to try and hinder me, I will crush you and I will stake my claim on them. Are we clear?» A flash of red, of fire and heat. Meleos seemed to cringe a bit. «I asked, are we clear?»

«Y-yes, we are.»

«Good.» He straightened himself up and tidied up his shirt. «I’m glad we found an agreement.» Lucifer raised an eyebrow. «Well, what are you waiting, then? I may very well have all eternity, but others involved unfortunately cannot say the same.» He softly sneered. Well, that was funny. To him, at least. Maybe also remotely worrying, but that was not the time to muse about Detective Decker's short lifespan.

He followed Meleos past a small wooden door, then down impossibly long and dusty stairs. «If I knew you’d put them so far, I’d approached you from Australia.» His joke was lost to the wind (more to the smelly, still air, actually), but Lucifer shrugged his bother away. All things considered, Meleos was leading him to the Basanos, the only ones that could help him solve Detective Decker’s mystery.

They had been walking for a while when Meleos suddenly stopped, gazing at yet another small, wooden door.

_He really has a thing for ruined doors._

He opened it with trembling fingers. Past it, there was a large, dark room – an empty room, except for a massive table. On the table, there was a small trunk, carved with symbols only an angel could comprehend. Protective symbols.

«You really _are_ scared of your deck, aren’t you? »

«It… it has changed, Lucifer. I was blinded by my ambition and I chose to ignore the signs… When I acknowledged them, it was too late.» Meleos gave him a frightened look. «The Basanos… They cannot be controlled. I’ve tried so many times…. And I’ve failed. Over and over again.»

«Uhu, they escaped their master control, is that it?» Lucifer couldn’t help showing how pleased he was by the news. He’d always enjoyed some good rebellion, after all.

«Yes, they did… They developed a mind of their own, awareness… So I’m begging you once more, Lucifer, _please_ don’t make me open their box.»

« _Meleos_....» A hint of a threat that was all it took for the other angel to start shivering again. Pale and terrified, Meleos reached for the box, fingers still trembling, stumbling while opening the lock. He gave one last, desperate look to Lucifer, who blankly stared back. Right now, the damn Basanos could wish to annihilate Paris or the whole France, for how much he cared. He wanted to know – _needed to know_. «I don’t need them all, just pull out mine, if it makes you feel better.» Meleos turned around and gave him a strange glance. «What? It was just an idea…» He shrugged.

Finally, Lucifer _felt_ the small trunk opening and the Basanos reaching out. Ok, _maybe_ Meleos wasn’t completely wrong and they were _slightly_ pissed off.

A fresh wave of ire and power and frustration washed over him. Well, maybe not just slightly pissed off – Lucifer wondered how many millennia did they spend imprisoned in that tiny (and probably uncomfortable) box.

The air vibrated when the Basanos’s light and spectre-like figures appeared. Infuriated as they were, their appearance made it clear that they were also weak and needed time to gain their strength back. Good, that meant that if Lucifer could extract the answers he was looking for relatively quickly, the chances he could just put them back without collateral damage were high. More or less.

The room filled with whispers and breaths and Meleos shivered. They were hissing, threatening him. But Lucifer didn’t really care much – as much as he despised what Meleos had become, he would ask his questions, get his answers, then lock the deck away. Until next time he’d be in need, of course.

«I sense there is some… _friction_ … between you and your creator…» Lucifer decided it would be best to simply get to the point, skipping the pleasantries. «But I’m afraid I don’t have that much time to waste on your quarrels…» The Basanos diverted their focus from Meleos, grinning.

« _Lightbringer._ »

«Mmmh, yes, that would be me.» The contrast between Meleos’ terrified expression and Lucifer’s placid smirk was noteworthy. Almost poetical.

« _We gather it is thanks to you that we are free at last?_ »

«Well, I wouldn’t say _free_ – especially considering you are little more than nice little ghosts…»

« _You dare mock us, Lightbringer?_ »

Perfect… They shared Meleos’ lack of humour. Lucifer rolled his eyes. «I would never do that. At the end of the day, _there is_ a tiny bit of me in you.» He smiled. «And… I happen to need that tiny part's service. So, maybe, considering your current state, you may want to consider a deal with the devil?» He ignored Meleos’ frightened moan. Never invite him to a poker night. Never.

« _Our state will soon change, why should we wish a deal with you?_ »

«Maybe because _you know_ that things could get ugly before your state changes. No matter how soon _soon_ is.»

Whispering, again. Lucifer internally rejoiced. The Basanos consulting each other was good. Really good.

« _What is your offer, Lightbringer?_ »

«I need you to give me answers. If I am pleased with it, I _might_ consider not restore your previous, tight situation.» With the corner of the eye, he noticed Meleos shrink even more and struggled to contain another snort.

The card… figure… spirit… yeah, whatever was talking to Lucifer tilted its head and smiled, weighing the offer, or maybe him. Or maybe both.

One of the spirit shyly crawled from the rear. Lucifer guessed it had to be one of the youngest, because its expression was far from being as sure as the one of the spirit that was doing all the talking. « _It seems a fair offer…_ » it suggested in faint a whisper. Yes, absolutely one of the youngest, with still that little, missing step towards complete awareness. « _I sense it must be something related to the woman, so maybe it is enough to address him to Sandalphon, and we…_ »

«Silent!» The other spirit interrupted it, his anger washing over Lucifer and Meleos in waves. But it was too late, and it knew it even before silencing the other card. Poor, silly thing, thinking it was enough to whisper… Lucifer was an angel. A fallen one, but still… very good hearing.

«Sandalphon? Well, that is unexpected. Had I known it before, I wouldn’t have bothered coming here.» He grinned. «And even if I think you could probably answer that more thoroughly, sparing me the trouble of visiting another of my siblings, Meleos is not completely wrong… _You_ are too dangerous and blatantly thirsty for destruction…. And I happen to like this planet and his mortal creatures, so… Time to go.» Lucifer smiled, falsely apologetic. «Sorry.»

« _You promised you’d free us, Lightbringer! Are you failing your word?_ » Ah, he could feel the panic creeping into the ire. The Basanos simply _knew_ they were still too weak to win against two angels – even if one was the sad Meleos.

«I never fail my word.» Lucifer looked offended. «We never sealed the deal, now, did we? Furthermore, I said I _might_ have _considered_ helping you… and being altruistic, I _considered_ not sealing you away. But I’m deciding against it.» He shrugged, then his smile disappeared and a flash of red peeped out. It had been fairly entertaining, but now their murmuring and the smelly, still air of the room had bored him. «Goodbye.»

Meleos had watched as the Basanos put on a fight that didn’t last long. They were powerful – he sure wouldn’t have been able to put them back in the box, not even before his fall – but he doubted they could ever win against the Lightbringer when fully recovered, let alone now that their power was still impaired by millennia of protective and weakening angelic symbols.

Neither he nor Lucifer saw the small, blonde girl-like spirit that somehow escaped the swirl with which the cards went back into the box. Nor did they see it hiding in a dark corner when they exited the room – Lucifer merrily chatting and Meleos still a bit shivering – and then approaching the box with a small grin on its face _._

_But what happened next is another story for another time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NB: Meleos, the Basanos and Sandalphon all appear in the comics. I only re-elaborated them so they could fit into this story.


	5. V.

**V.**

 

«So… your business trip was longer than expected, right? I hope at least it went well.» Chloe offered to a strangely silent Lucifer. Truth be told, Trixie hadn’t been the only one who had missed him. Not that she had _missed_ him – not like that, of course. _Pfft!_ But his help – as peculiar as it was – had more than once proven quite effective, actually.

_Yes, I was only missing his professional support. Maybe his strange concept of friendship, sometimes. But that’s all.,_ she confidently told herself, pretending to actually listen the answer, while her eyes betrayed all of her good intents by sliding down the line of his shoulders, fomenting the ideas of that bastard little voice in the back of her head … _With those arms, he’d have no problem in lifting you and tak –_ Chloe stumbled against her chair.  «Shhhhit.»

«Everything ok, Detective?» Lucifer grinned at her and for a fraction of a second she feared he could really read her thoughts – which would have been all but mortally embarrassing. Not to mention unprofessional.

«What? Yes, sorry, those stupid shoes…» _Very convincing indeed_. She could almost feel her cheeks redden even more. Her hand went to briefly massage her temples. «So you were saying that…» she left the sentence unfinished, looking at him somehow discouraged. Why was she reacting to his return from a short leave like a goofy teenager with a… well, like a goofy teenager?

The man gave her a puzzled yet interested look, as if he was wondering the same thing. «… the meeting wasn’t as fruitful as I hoped, since I thought I’d be able to seal the deal right away. »  He shrugged his shoulders, dismissing the blatant disappointment in his words. «But I’m not worried, I’m leaving again in two days, and this time I’m not coming back until I obtain what I want.» He gave Chloe a predatory smile that almost preoccupied her. He’d never showed that much aggressiveness when talking about his business deals. 

«Wow, you must really care about this… what was it again?» She went through some file with nonchalance, not really looking at them, just acting busy.

«The acquisition of…» He tilted his head. «… intel. Financial intel.» Chloe could swear he’d looked at her strangely when uttering the words. «And yes, I do _care_ , Detective. To be honest, it is a matter of life and death…» And now he was doing it again, looking at her as if he was expecting her to blow up after his eyes. «Metaphorically speaking, of course.»

Chloe nodded dubiously. «Yes, of course…» They stared at each other in silence for a few moments. Something was off between them, but she couldn’t exactly detect what. Was Lucifer lying to her about his trip? But why? If it had been some kind of orgiastic party he wouldn’t have had problems in letting her know _all_ the details. Literally, _all of them_. And even if he appeared to be a self-made wealthy man, he wasn’t exactly one to actually take care of his business – Chloe had drawn the conclusion that he probably had an entire squad of economists and accountants who did all the boring work for him. Otherwise how on heart would he have been able to spend so much time working with her? _Well, not just working though… you were about to do a lot more than simply working in his loft, a few weeks ago…_ The images that where hunting her since that day appeared once again. The scars on his back, the softness of his skin, that fluting right above his pelvis… She could feel her cheeks blushing.

«Are you alright Detective?» He took a few steps and closed the distance between them, resting his hand on her forehead. Chloe couldn’t help a little trembling when their skins touched. _What. The. Hell is happening to me?_ She didn’t _want_ that arrogant prick. He was fun and all, sometimes – some others, he was even useful – but that was all. She’d been rejecting his advances  over and over again because she truly wasn’t interested in deepening their relationship. Yet, since that evening with the scars, her mind was constantly playing with her, making her suddenly hyper aware of his presence, of the warmth of his body whenever he was too close, of the faint mocking in his words… «I think you got a fever.» He diagnosed, his hand still on her. «Would you like me to bring you home?» His eyes locked with hers, and she could almost feel whatever warmth he had sensed on her skin running and pooling somewhere behind her belly.

Yes, yes of course she was sick. She had been stressed, and working late, and then trying to keep up with her daughters appointment… the tiredness had to find an outlet, and fever actually was her favourite one: she’d got a fever right in the middle of her first (and only) movie, then when she was 8 months pregnant, then once again when she and Dan were about to split up… Thad made perfectly sense. Furthermore, it would also explain her newfound attract… _interest. Let’s call it an unwanted and uncalled for interest._ It could happen, right, to have your head a bit messed up because of a fever and fatigue…

«I…» He was still looking at her, slightly worried, maybe? «I’m feeling a bit dizzy, actually… But there’s no need for you to take me home, I can just take a pill and then…»

He shushed her. «No, no, no, Detective. I won’t have you going around feverish. Plus, you really look like you need a good rest.»

«I can’t simply leave…» she tried to protest, but Lucifer was having none of her excuses and was already dragging her toward the elevator.

«Yes, you can. And you will. Although I must admit I’m flattered, Detective…» He gave her an amused look. «Had I known my absence would make you sick, I’d have come back earlier.» Her already red face burned in shame, and she punched him on the arm. «Ouch!» Still, he grinned. And Chloe felt the need to dig a hole and lie in it. Forever. _Gosh, now he thinks I have some crush on him… or something. I’m so stupid. Stupid fever._ «You really don’t know how to take a joke, do you?»

 

* * *

 

«Thank you for the ride, but I don’t need you to carry me around… I’m perfectly able to go inside my house and make some tea by myself…»

«Yes, of course you are.» Nonetheless, he crossed the door right behind her. Not that he was particularly worried about a light fever – although he was finding the whole situation sufficiently funny – but after his visit to Meleos his curiosity about that woman had only grown. He had sent Mazikeen on yet another mission to this particular cause – namely the location of Sandalphon – and in the meanwhile he was trying to find whatever he was missing at its very source. He had observed her at the precinct, studied the way her face turned red and her eyes diverted from him at some point – she had looked so innocent and pure, in that moment, almost as if she was embarrassed, that he’d felt a low, predatory roar inside… What was it about that average human that made him vulnerable? Well, ok, maybe not exactly average. She was attractive, smart, fun… still, she was just a human. He’d touched her forehead, feeling the warmth of her body (to be truly honest, he suspected she’d be much warmer had she really had a fever, but he was all too ready to spend some time alone with her and solve the puzzle), had laughed when he’d seen the small stain of juice on her blouse. Definitely human. Yet…

He observed her as she fumble about in the kitchen, looking for a kettle and some tea, his rationality whispering to him that he should simply stay away from her.  Instead, he followed some subconscious instinct and went near her, helping her recover some cups from the cupboard. He felt her stiff when their hands accidentally touched, his fingers brushing hers. Had she shown any inclination towards having some kind of activities with him, he’d already be thrusting hard into her, right there on the kitchen counter – maybe she’d be scratching his back, the only human who could afford such an honour… His fingers moved on their own, hovering on her hair, on her shoulder. It would have been so easy to simply plunge them into that blonde mess and –

«LUCIFER!» The door slammed and in less than a second small arms where tightening around his waist.

«Ew…» With two fingers he tried to undo the evil grip of Trixie, then he turned around and pushed her at a safe distance. «Good girl.» Lucifer patted her on the head, stunned as always by her proclivity at hugging him. Maybe that was another clue of the puzzle he was trying to solve: the mother made him vulnerable, the child apparently wanted to kill him with all that _childness_.

«Are you here for the pizza night?» Lucifer was impressed by the way her little eyes widened while talking. The more he saw of her, the more he thought he was right about children being some kind of first attempt of making demons.

«Oh, right, the pizza night…» Chloe looked at him apologetically. «You know, she missed you while you were away –»

«Did she now?» He interrupted her, grinning, somehow confident that, had the little thing not interrupted them, she’d have shown him how _she_ had missed him, no matter what she kept saying on the subject…

She cleared her throat. «So I kinda promised her I’d invite you for a pizza night.»

«I see… but maybe tonight’s not a good idea, with the _fever_ and all?» Lucifer could almost see her biting her tongue to avoid any comeback that would be inadequate for Trixie’s ears.

«Do you have a fever, mommy?» asked the little demon, suddenly worried.

«It’s nothing monkey, mommy is just a bit tired. And maybe we can invite Lucifer over another night, right?» The child looked disappointed, but said nothing and walked towards her room.

«So… about that pizza night?» Chloe said nonchalantly when Trixie had disappeared into her room.

«Spending an entire evening with that monster-child of yours? Such a wonderful idea…» He made a grimace and she rolled her eyes. «However, I’ll take the invitation into consideration as soon as I’ll be finished with that… acquisition.»

«I thought you’d stay in LA for a while before leaving again.» Chloe briefly closed her eyes, savouring the warmth emanate by the cup of tea. He observed her and felt something weird, something that somehow scared him. _Caring_. Caring was a dangerous thing to do, especially when it was towards a human that appeared to make him vulnerable – dying was not something he was ready to do.

«Well, I’m not going _right now_ , but I’m ready to leave whenever  my counterpart is ready.» _Which, hopefully, will be very soon. Maze rarely disappoints me._


End file.
